A few days later, Yu Xiaogang woke up in an unfamiliar room.
He knew Spirit Hall's ways well. He was still a fugitive, and Spirit Hall would certainly put out a bounty for his capture.
When he threw back the blanket, he found that his former clothes, so foul-smelling they defied description, had been replaced with a plain robe that fit him well.
Without time to think further, Yu Xiaogang warily surveyed his surroundings.
The furnishings in the room were extremely simple. Other than a crude bed, there was only a chair missing one of its "legs."
Glancing at the half-open window, Yu Xiaogang cautiously poked his head out.
Outside the room was a small courtyard. It was mealtime, and an old woman was tending the fire and cooking.
"Old man, hurry up and change clothes. It's time to eat!" the old woman shouted.
Yu Xiaogang looked beyond the courtyard fence and saw an old man in filthy clothes, carrying a shoulder pole, slowly walk in.
The old man was around sixty. A large bucket hung from each end of the pole on his shoulders. From their appearance, Yu Xiaogang understood that the man was likely a manure carrier.
"Old woman, has that person from the palace woken up yet?"
"Huh? I don't know. He had such a terrible fever these past few days. When I checked on him this morning, his fever had already gone down. He should be waking soon, right? I'll go take a look."
Yu Xiaogang knew that the person they were talking about was him.
But a person from the palace? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Still, Yu Xiaogang was a Soul Master. Why would he fear two ordinary people?
He immediately walked out of the room, clasped his hands behind his